


How to Handle Hannukah

by Blowfish_Diaries



Series: How to Handle... [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Discussions of sex, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hannukah, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Friendship, I needed something light and happy in my life so this is happened, Jewish traditions, Latkes, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Seriously just so much fluff, Smut, So many questions about sex, The Potter children are precious angels, ron is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blowfish_Diaries/pseuds/Blowfish_Diaries
Summary: Harry and Draco have decided to cohabitate. And to throw a Hannukah party. Enter latkes, spreadsheets, and Pansy beating everyone at dreidel.This is a fluffy, domestic fic to celebrate the holiday season and add another chapter to the "How to Handle a Matzo Ball Soup Emergency" series.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: How to Handle... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573810
Comments: 10
Kudos: 144





	How to Handle Hannukah

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can sorta stand on its on? I would highly recommend reading the first work in this series to understand the original character(s)/the plot/etc, though. Enjoy!

December 2013

“The kids will be home any minute. You know we don’t have time,” Harry sighed and let the strands of Draco’s hair slide through his fingers, enjoying the texture and the contrast between the corn silk locks and his tan, calloused hand. He tried to straighten up from where Draco had him pinned against the counter, but his progress was hindered by long, insistent fingers that were wrapped around his narrow hips. 

“Mm, don’t care. They could use some childhood trauma. Fodder for a Mind Healer in their twenties.” Draco replied, nosing his way down Harry’s stubble-covered neck. He rolled his hips gently against Harry’s, sighing when he felt the other man’s erection pressing against his own. “I want your cock in my mouth, Potter,” Draco muttered the words against Harry’s ear and then nipped at his earlobe gently. 

Harry groaned and moved his hands to the fly of his denims. Who was he to deny Draco something when he’d asked so nicely? 

At that moment the front door of their townhouse was banged open and the voices of their children drifted from the foyer. Draco jumped back from Harry at the sound of the commotion, and he quickly lowered himself onto the stool next to the butcher-block island, crossing his legs and taking a deep breath in an effort to will his erection away. Harry grabbed a tea towel and held it awkwardly in front his crotch while he looked around a bit wildly for the electric kettle. 

“I told you!” He hissed at Draco and felt his cheeks flush. 

Draco merely shrugged and smiled lasciviously at Harry. 

Saul entered the kitchen first and raised his eyebrows as he looked between the two men. “Ah, young love,” he said, chuckling. “I remember it well.” Harry tried to pat down his hair, wondering how Saul had known immediately what they’d been up to. 

The old man moved to take his usual seat at the large oval table on the far end of the kitchen that functioned as their dining area. He pulled out his half-finished crossword puzzle and looked around in search of his spectacles.

“They’re in your breast pocket. Anything noteworthy at school pickup, Saul?” Asked Harry, who had set about preparing tea.

Saul grinned and slid his glasses on. “Not in the slightest. Ms Goldblum asked after you, and seemed quite disappointed at the news that you had gone and shacked up with Draco.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and Draco huffed indignantly. “I knew that woman was after you, Harry. She’s always leering at you and staring at your arse.”

“Who’s staring at who’s arse?” asked Lily, running into the kitchen with her homework folder clutched in her hands. Draco thought that she looked like some sort of Dickensian orphan: the long plait that he had so carefully woven her red hair into this morning was fighting a losing battle to keep her unruly curls off of her face, her jumper was falling off of one shoulder and was covered in what he assumed (hoped) was paint splatter, and her leggings had a hole in one knee that definitely hadn’t been there before school. 

“Whom’s. And it’s your father’s arse that’s being objectified,” Draco replied, pulling Lily to him and pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. “It’s quite lovely and Ms Goldblum would like nothing more than to get her hands on it.” 

“Draco!” Harry scolded from where he was cutting a cucumber into bite-sized discs. “Language! And don’t talk about Ms Goldblum wanting my ar - err, - my backside.” 

Lily slapped her folder on the table across from Saul. “I know what an arse is, Dad! Jamie told me all the different words for our bums. Butt, arse, behind, bottom…” She trailed off as she opened her folder and began organizing her papers, her tongue poking out as she concentrated on her task.

Harry sighed and continued his task. “I don’t think the kids will lack topics to discuss with a therapist, Draco.” 

He waved a dismissive hand at Harry before turning to Lily. “Your vocabulary is progressing well for a pirate, _cherie_ , but perhaps we can work on adding words that are suitable for a general audience, hmm?” Draco said as he opened a cabinet to gather mugs for tea. He had to shuffle through at least a dozen other cups to find the one that he knew Scorpius would ask for: Harry had bought it for him at the London Zoo for his last birthday, and it had a large giraffe sticking out its tongue on the front. 

“Ok DD.” Lily said distractedly, still rifling through her papers determinedly. 

Combining two households the month prior had been an enormous task, particularly since they had decided to move into the Potter/Weinberg townhouse in Shoreditch rather than into the much larger Malfoy home. Harry and Draco agreed that it would be for the best not to ask Saul to leave the home he had spent almost sixty years in, and the proximity to the Deli that Harry and Saul ran and to Draco’s potions laboratory made the decision an easy one. Fitting two more people into the already cramped space, however, was another story. The chaos of having four children under ten, one octogenarian, two owls, four goldfish, and one prickly pureblood under a single roof made Harry... blissfully happy. His home was rarely quiet before the addition of Draco and Scorpius, but their presence had added a joy to his days that he hadn’t known was possible. He wouldn’t call his marriage to Ginny unhappy - they had enjoyed a contented relationship and their children were absolutely the best part of his life - but they had never achieved anything resembling the spark that existed between himself and Draco. Every morning that he woke up next to Draco was a gift. 

(Harry had said as much to Draco as his alarm went off that very morning and was met with a groan of “coffee first, then sentiment!” and pillow to the face instead of the kiss he had expected. His beloved was _not_ a morning person.)

“Where are your brothers?” Harry asked when the kettle let off a soft ding and the room was still absent Jamie, Albus, and Scorpius.

“Al and Scorp said they needed to check on a ‘speriment when we got home, and Jamie is probably writing to Teddy,” Lily replied. 

Draco winced and pointed his wand to his throat, saying in a magically magnified voice, “all Potter and Malfoys downstairs for WPS, _maintenant_!” The last time Albus and Scorpius had carried out an “experiment”, the upstairs toilet had been unusable until a plumber came to fish what turned out to be an entire (dismembered) Barbie doll out from the pipes. Draco and Harry agreed that they didn’t want to dampen their children’s’ creativity, but he wasn’t sure how much abuse the old home could weather.

Harry mimed fanning himself. “I love it when you speak French, moan a-more.” 

“And I hate it when you _try_ to speak French, _mon amour_ ,” Draco responded, smiling despite his disgust at Harry’s atrocious pronunciation. 

Moments later the three missing boys thundered down the stairs and stumbled one after another into the kitchen. 

“Sprogs! Table!” Harry called as he carried a plate of snacks and a pot of tea to the table where Lily, Saul, and Draco had already sat down.

Tuesday afternoons were reserved for what had been termed ‘The Wottfoy Parliamentary Sessions.’ The various responsibilities of sports practices, play dates, musical instrument lessons, work at the deli/potions lab, and step-families meant that during the week the seven of them were rarely able to spend time together. Even before they had combined their households, Draco and Harry had instituted a mandatory weekly teatime to begin to integrate their families and to catch up with each others’ goings on. Scorpius had come up the portmanteau of their names (Weinberg, Potter, and Malfoy), and after a memorable Tuesday where the adults were forced to call order several times due to a shouting match that kept erupting between Jamie and Al, formal Parliamentary procedure had been enacted. 

“I call this Wotfoy Session to order!” Saul said, reaching for his usual mug (a gift from Ron that was bright green with the slogan ‘Slaggy for Slytherin’ in looping cursive. And hadn’t _that_ been a fun conversation to have with the kids). “As the resolution from last week to begin with the youngest Wottfoy was passed, I cede the floor to Ms Lily Luna Potter.” 

“Thank you, Zayde!” Lily said, sitting up straighter in her chair and patting her riotous hair down with her rather grubby hands. Harry flicked a gentle cleansing charm in her direction before she grabbed a biscuit and ingested whatever germs she had picked up at school. 

Lily set an orange flier on the table in front of Harry and Draco. “Friday is family night at school. Mr Bowers said that we can bring as many parents and guardians as we want because every family is different and special and perfect no matter what that bum-head Charlie Vance says and I want to show you all my family tree that I made and Mummy and Nev said that they wouldn’t miss it for the world and I want you all to be there ok?” Lily had turned slightly red from not taking a breath during her brief speech. 

“What did that git Charlie Vance say to you?” Asked Draco, brow furrowing. If it weren’t frowned upon to hex children, he certainly would have done so to that little twit. He had already been the cause of many of Lily’s tears, and Draco was fiercely protective of their only female resident. It made Harry’s heart swell to bursting at the special friendship that the two of them had formed.

“He said that you and Zayde weren’t my real family and he called Daddy ‘The Chosen Fairy’ but Mr Bowers heard him and he got a timeout and a note pinned to the back of his shirt and then his mum had to come talk to the teachers.” Lily shrugged and took a bite of a Hobnob. “I don’t know why he called Daddy a fairy though, because he’s actually sort of tall and his ears aren’t pointed like in my book of fairies and the only time I’ve seen him fly is on a broom.”

“A six year old called your father The Chosen Fairy? What a little shit! Why weren’t we informed of this?!” Draco shouted, turning to Harry. 

“Language! And, err…” Harry scratched his neck and looked down. “We… we were. Informed of it. The school sent an owl, but I didn’t want you to fly off the handle and make a big deal of it so I didn’t say anything. They disciplined that Vance kid, so I didn’t think there was much more to be done.” 

Harry lifted his gaze, ready to accept a verbal lashing from Draco. What he saw was much worse than a pointed barb: the look on his face was one of hurt. 

“Oh. Well, I suppose you know best, then.” Draco turned his body fully away from Harry and crossed his arms. “Lily,” he continued, “we will of course accompany you to your classroom on Friday evening. It would be my absolute pleasure.” 

Lily beamed. Harry reached out to rub Draco’s shoulder, but he shrugged away from him. “We’ll speak later,” he hissed. 

Draco then addressed the three boys sitting across from him, asking if they had been bullied at school because of their fathers’ relationship.

Al and Scorpius shared a nervous glance and Jamie rolled his eyes. 

“Well,” began Al, “Jemma Goldblum said that her mum talks about Dad at home a lot, wondering how he could be happy partnered up with a Death Eater. And a few other boys have made jokes about you, you know, being -”

“Gay.” Finished Jamie. 

“James, you know your father isn’t gay,” replied Draco before Harry had the chance to respond.

Harry tried to catch his oldest son’s eye, but Jamie kept his gaze resolutely on the table. Harry took a deep breath and began, “in any case, there isn’t anything wrong with being gay! Draco is gay. I’m bisexual. Auntie Luna is pansexual! We’ve talked about this before. Love is love, regardless of gender - or lack thereof - of those involved.” 

“What’s it called when you only love one person your whole life? Like Jamie loves Teddy? And Zayde loved Bubbe? Is that, like, onesexual?” Asked Al, a serious expression on his face.

Jamie scoffed. “I know there isn’t anything wrong with being gay. Or with loving who you want to love. But just because we know that it doesn’t make people stop bugging us at school.” Jamie spoke quietly, still not looking up at the rest of his family. 

Saul cleared his throat and all eyes turned to the head of the table. “I think,” he said slowly, “that we need to remember that it’s never wrong to stand up for what you know is right. You don’t always have to turn the other cheek and remain silent in the face of bullies.” 

“So am I allowed to kick Charlie Vance in the penis?” Lily questioned, her eyes alight with something that made Harry a bit nervous.

“No, Lily,” Answered Draco, a small smile playing at his lips. “No matter how much you may feel someone deserves to be kicked in the penis, violence is only acceptable in three situations.” 

“If you’re being attacked, helping someone who’s defenceless, or if Dad breaks the toaster again,” recited all four children in unison. 

“My point, bubbelahs,” interrupted Saul, “is that you can use your words to stand up for yourself and for those you love. Silence has taken the lives of too many.” 

“You are entirely correct, as always, Saul. May I suggest we move on to Scorpius before I have to take him to his mother’s?” said Draco.

Scorpius’ expression brightened and he began, “I would like to give my time today to Albus Severus Potter, who will present the latest findings from our experiments regarding the growth of mold in a contained environment: in old jam jars underneath our beds.” 

Five minutes and many promises of thorough cleanings of said beds later, Jamie waved his hand dismissively and muttered, “nothing new to report. Dad it’s your turn.”

Harry glanced at Draco, who was sat with his arms crossed tightly and his back rigid. “Ok then,” he thought, “still pissed.” He sighed and turned to face the rest of his family. 

“As you know, on Saturday night we’re having our first ever Wottfoy Hannukah Party. The festivities start at 6, but we need all hands on deck in the afternoon. Draco made a schedule of duties, and an assortment of Weasleys, Weasley-Grangers, and Dudley will be over early to help us set up.” 

Draco placed a three-ring binder on the table in front of him and began to mete out papers with a complicated looking schedule printed on it. Harry glanced down at the binder and was again hit with a wave of love for Draco. His binder had become an ever-present accessory in the past few weeks, as he had begun planning the party the minute that Saul had suggested it as a way to have a “housewarming/formal blending of the families.” Harry also felt that it was important to establish new traditions with Draco and Scorpius in order to ingratiate them into the huge, crazy family that Harry had assembled over the years. 

There were twelve different sections in the binder, each denoted by a large, labeled tab. The menu, guest list, decorations - everything had been meticulously thought out and then organized and stored. Given this experience, Harry was sure that Draco would be a complete nutter when it came to planning a wedding. 

Not that they were getting married.

Yet.

Harry thought about the engagement ring he had hidden in his gym bag, bought when he and Draco had been together for three days. It was simple and gold with a tiny emerald and ruby on either side of the word _‘always’_ that was inscribed on the inside of the band. He’d actually asked Draco to marry him after the first night they’d spent together, but Draco had gotten incredibly cross and shouted about “oxytocin” and “idiot Gryffindors” and kicked him out of his bed entirely for another week. Harry had realized he’d made a grievous error - not in asking Draco to marry him - but in not having the patience to first make Draco understand that Harry was completely and totally gone over him and wanted to be his forever. 

It had been two and a half years, and he felt that he’d been entirely patient enough. He was hoping that Saturday night would not only be a celebration of Hannukah, but also of their engagement. 

Draco began explaining the schedule to the assembled group, pointing out the various ‘committees’ he had formed, when Scorpius interrupted. “Papa, did you use a computer to make this?” He asked confusedly. 

“Yes I did. And it took me bloody forever so you’d best appreciate the effort.” 

“You,” continued Scorpius, apparently not believing his father’s answer, “used an actual computer?” 

Draco huffed indignantly. “What’s so unbelievable about that?” 

“It did take Saul about two hours to teach you how to use the word processing program…” Harry began, smiling at Draco who scowled in return.

“And once he got the basics down, he was a pro!” Saul said jovially, patting Draco on the arm. “We’re going to set him up with an email account next week.” 

“Welcome to the 20th century, love,” Harry joked. 

“Oh please, you luddite. Your mobile, bought circa 2001, is held together with duct tape and literal magic. I won’t be lectured by someone who can’t even figure out how to use text messaging.” Draco’s usually teasing tone was cut with acid. 

“Right,” thought Harry, “so perhaps maybe a bit more than ‘pissed,’” he amended. 

Saul caught Harry’s eye and raised his eyebrows, managing to communicate both, “you better fix this” and “I’m disappointed in you” without opening his mouth. Harry hung his head.

Draco coughed pointedly and continued, “As I was saying! The latke committee is assembling at exactly noon…”

___________________________

When Harry opened the door to his and Draco’s bedroom a few hours later, he had mentally prepared his apology for not including Draco in the Charlie Vance situation and was ready to grovel. 

He found Draco sitting on his leather armchair that faced the lit fireplace. The bedroom had been expanded using wizarding space so that in addition to the large, four poster mahogany bed frame and matching armoire, there was a small fireplace with a sitting area that would otherwise have been impossible to fit in the two storey townhome. 

Draco’s long legs were crossed at the knee, and he had his right arm propped up under his chin. He was gazing into the fire, his eyes unfocussed, his expression grim and unchanging despite Harry’s entrance into the room. 

“Draco,” Harry began, taking a seat in the matching armchair opposite him. 

“No, Harry, let me have my say first.” Draco finally looked up and locked his gray eyes with Harry’s. “I have no right to be angry with how you handled the situation with Lily’s school. It’s up to you and Ginny how you want to proceed with things like that, and I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did. It won’t happen again.”

Harry felt like he had completely lost the plot, and was a bit nervous that he had somehow walked into a situation that would lead to him sleeping on the pullout couch in the living room. “What are you on about? You had every right to be angry with me. When I got that owl, I should have immediately talked to you about it.”

“Lily is not my child,” Draco responded simply. 

“Oh, Draco.” Said Harry sadly, catching on to his train of thought and shaking his head. “She is, though. She _is_ your child. She certainly claims you has her other father, and I was under the impression that you wanted her to be, well… ours.”

Draco kept his gaze steadily on Harry’s. “Until this afternoon, I was also operating under the assumption that I now have four children. But I understand that it’s different. That James, Albus, and Lily aren’t truly mine to claim.” 

“I’m an idiot, Draco.” 

Draco inclined his head slightly and raised one eyebrow. 

Harry huffed out a small laugh. “I mean, I know you know that I can be a bit thick from time to time. But I was especially thick in this situation. When I got the letter from Lily’s school, my only thought was to minimize the damage. If I didn’t make a big deal out of that little arsehole calling me ‘The Chosen Fairy’ in front of Lily, then, perhaps, the whole thing would just go away. Her teacher assured me the kid had been disciplined and his parents talked to, and so I didn’t want you to have to hear about it at all. I wasn’t thinking about handling the incident as a parent; I was thinking about handling it as your partner, trying to, I don’t know… shield you from a six year old?” Harry sat back in his chair and raised his hands as if in resignation. “I know it was shortsighted. But I didn’t mean to disclude you from anything regarding Lily or making decisions about how to parent her. I didn’t even floo Ginny about it, which it’s now occuring to me was also idiotic.” 

“You wanted to shield me from a six year old?” Draco asked. He uncrossed his legs and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “A fucking six year old? Do you know what names I’ve been called in my life? What names I’ve heard bandied about regarding our relationship? Hearing you called ‘The Chosen Fairy’ doesn’t make the top twenty. It’s not even creative!” 

Harry shrugged and sat forward to mirror Draco’s position. “I just didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to continue to live in a little bubble where our family is untouched by the bullshit of the outside world. But I made the wrong decision, and I am so, so sorry. You are the kids’ other father, and Ginny understands that you’re going to be involved in decisions regarding their lives just as Neville is on the other side. I’m sure that when I tell her about all of this she’s going to tell me what a tosser I am and probably also give me a smack to the head.”

Draco didn’t respond. He sighed and let his head hang heavy between his shoulders. 

“Do you want to be their other father, Draco? I mean, Lily and Al already call you their Draco Dad and Jamie is just being a pretween twit and calls me ‘Harry’ half the time simply to be contrary.”

“Of course I want to be their other father,” Draco said, lifting his gaze to meet Harry’s bright green eyes once again. “I just... I don’t know. I suppose I don’t want to raise my hopes up only to be disappointed. But I love your children. I love _our_ children.”

Harry smiled and let out a relieved sigh before he dropped to his knees in front of the other chair. He rested his hands on Draco’s thighs. “I’m so sorry about not including you. I’ll tell you the minute we get any more owls from the kid's school.”

Draco gave Harry a small smile. “I forgive you, Harry. But I suppose I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? This - you and me - has all played out too easily. I’m terrified that I’m going to wake up one day and you’ll have realised what a mistake you’ve made in being with me.” 

“That’s not going to happen. I love you, completely and totally. You’re my missing piece, and there’s no other shoe that’s ever going to drop.” 

Draco shook his head. “This sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life. I’m the bad guy, not the one who ends up with the handsome prince at the end of the story.”

Harry gripped Draco’s thighs with his fingers and leaned his torso into his legs, trying to connect their bodies as much as possible in their current positions. “This isn’t some fairy tale - although the obvious joke about being The Chosen Fairy isn’t lost on me. This is our reality. We lived pretty fucked up lives for the first eighteen years we were on this planet, and we deserve happiness. I’m gobsmacked every day that you’ve somehow found that happiness with me, and that is no mistake. I might not have known that I loved you since we were fifteen like you did with me, but you have to know that I’m there with you now. I want to spend every single day of the rest of my life with you next to me, reminding me that I can be a bit thick but that you love me despite it. That you see my chosen family and you also choose to be a part of it. I’m never going to realise that I’ve made a mistake being with you, because it’s _not_ a mistake.” 

Draco bent his head so that his cheek rested on the top of Harry’s messy curls and breathed in the intoxicating scent that now meant home: the slightly woodsy smell of Harry’s cologne mixed with the cooking oil that always clung to his hair and clothing regardless of how much time he’d spent in the deli that day. 

All of a sudden Harry jerked up, dislodging Draco’s cheek so suddenly that he yelped. 

“I wasn’t going to do this until the weekend, but I think I should now. I mean, I want to. Not should. I’m so sure of this, and I need you to understand where I am with you.” Harry ran across the room, threw open the door to the closet, and disappeared from Draco’s view.

Draco waited, unsure if he was meant to follow Harry into the closet or stay seated. After two and a half years, though, he was used to Harry’s rash style of decision making. 

“Just a tick! I know I haven’t been in ages but I didn’t think it would be so hard to find this...Ha! Got it.”

Harry emerged from the closet clutching his blue nylon gym bag and looked suddenly nervous. He approached Draco again, returning to his knees in front of the chair where the other man was still sitting, waiting for Harry to clarify whatever it was he was doing.

“I asked you something a few years ago, but you didn’t give me an answer and instead you chucked me out of your house and so I haven’t brought it up again.” Draco frowned, trying to remember the reasons behind the handful of times he and Harry had had such big rows that he’d banned him from his Knightsbridge home. Perhaps Harry wanted to try bondage again? He hadn’t seemed too put out when Draco admitted he didn’t fancy being tied up, and he certainly hadn’t kicked Harry out over it. But what else could Harry have hidden in his gym bag, if not ropes? Maybe a riding crop? 

Draco’s confused musings were interrupted when Harry continued: “Draco. I’m arse over tits for you. I have been for at least half a decade, even if we didn’t start shagging until you started coming into the deli. I want you to be mine forever, and I want to announce it in front of all four of our children and the rest of our family and friends.” 

Draco made a strangled noise in his throat and gripped the arms of the chair. Surely Harry didn’t mean …

He unzipped the bag and dug his hand around inside of it until he produced a small box that he clutched in his palm. “Draco,” Harry said, opening the box to reveal a gold band nestled in black velvet, “will you marry me?” 

“Are you fucking insane?” Draco said, bringing one hand up to his throat to clutch at phantom pearls. 

Harry deflated and sat back on his heels. “I...err… no? I want to marry you. Is that insane?”

“Yes!” yelled Draco. “You’re off your fucking rocker, Potter.”

“So that’s a ‘no,’ then?”

“Of course it’s not a no! I’m not the one who’s absolutely mental.” He grabbed the box out of Harry’s hand and with his own hands shaking, took the gold band out. 

“So it’s a ‘yes’?” Harry said, watching as Draco inspected the inner part of the band that held the stones and inscription.

Draco’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he nodded, slipping the band onto his left ring finger. “I love you, Harry Potter, you insufferable git. It’s been over two years now, so the oxytocin that filled your brain with lust has dissipated for the most part. I suppose if you’re still enamored of me, it must be true. Yes. Of course I’ll marry you.” 

Harry laughed and threw his arms around Draco’s midsection, burying his face in his stomach. “You’ll not regret marrying me, love. I promise I’ll work on not being such an insufferable git.” 

“You better not. Never change, Harry. Never.” 

_______________________

Saturday dawned bright and so cold that the windows of the kitchen were frosted around the edges. Lily was sat at the window ledge, using her nail to trace designs in the ice. “DD?” She asked, not looking up from her work, “if you and Daddy are getting married, does that mean that you’re going to have sex? And have more babies?”

Draco choked on his coffee. “Excuse me?”

“My friend Felicity said that married people have sex. And mummy explained to me that sex is how we have babies. So is that going to happen?” 

Harry, Scorpius, and Al entered the kitchen in time to hear this last question. Draco looked imploringly at Harry, willing him to answer their daughter and spare him the inevitable barrage of follow-up questions.

Still slightly sleep mussed and scratching at the scruff on his neck, Harry shook his head. “This one is all you, darling.” He moved to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug, waiting to hear how Draco would manage this. 

Albus jumped in first, though, and told his sister, “boys can’t have babies, Lily! They don’t have the right bits. Babies need to come out of the … vangina.” 

“Vagina,” Draco corrected absently, trying to keep up with the conversation. 

“Well, maybe a Healer could transfigure the right bits. Is that what two wizards do when they want to have a baby?” Scorpius asked and turned to face Harry and Draco.

“Why else would you have sex if you can’t make a baby?” Lily had stopped her doodles to pose this question, giving the room her full attention. 

“First of all, no, it is not possible to transfigure reproductive organs to carry a pregnancy to full term,” Draco began. “Although, researchers in America have made some interesting discoveries regarding the possibility of magically-induced gender reassignment surgery-”

Harry cut him off before he went on a long tangent, probably giving the kids way more information than would be helpful. “The point is that when two wizards want to have children, they can either find a surrogate - someone to carry their child for them - or they can adopt.” 

“Oh, so you won’t be having sex,” Lily said, kicking her slippered feet against the wall.

“Well, actually, people mostly have sex because it feels good,” Draco said, “and because it is a physical manifestation of their desire and love for one another.” 

Scorpius looked perplexed. “Can you have sex if you’re not married?” 

“Yes, but it’s important to make sure that you’re ready to have such an intimate connection with the other person. Or people.” Draco responded. 

“You can have sex with more than one person at the same time?” Albus sounded alarmed. 

Draco opened his mouth to reply but Harry interjected. “I think we’ve gotten off track a bit here. Sex is a very important part of a relationship, and no you don’t have to be married to have it, but you shouldn’t do it with just anyone. You can end up feeling, erm… sad? Regretful? Unfulfilled?”

All three kids were quiet, digesting the information their parents had given them. 

“Ok, so you’re not going to have babies even though you’re getting married? But you will be having sex.” Albus summed up the situation with a scrunched, pinched look on his face and Scorpius’ already pallid complexion paled a bit more. 

“Correct,” said Draco. 

“Gross,” Albus muttered before he grabbed Scorpius’ hand and the two fled from the kitchen. 

Lily hopped down from her perch on the window ledge and did a little pirouette, letting her riotous curls whip around her face. “I understand everything, now,” she said. “I didn’t think mum could be having a baby if she and Nev weren’t married, but I didn’t know people could have sex whenever they wanted.” 

“Your mum is having a baby?” Harry said unnecessarily loudly, causing Draco to wince.

“Auntie Luna said she seemed to be growing another baby in her belly because all the wrackspurts kept clear away from her but the butterflies in Neville’s greenhouse were hovering by her head.” Lily continued to spin around the kitchen, using her slippers to propel herself across the polished wood. “I’m going to wake up Jamie. Don’t have sex in here while I’m gone!” 

“Huh,” said Harry, raising his eyebrows and watching Lily twirl away. “Well, I suppose we can wait until tonight to ask. 

“Harry! You can’t ask a woman if she’s pregnant. Honestly. How you ever managed to be in polite society is beyond me” Draco huffed, shaking his head. 

“She’s my ex wife! I could ask.” 

“You really, honestly think that it would be appropriate to approach Ginny in a room full of her family and friends and ask her - never mind waiting for her to tell people when she’s ready - if she’s _expecting_? And what if she’s not? I didn’t know that wrackspurts and butterflies’ hovering habits were pregnancy tests.” Draco set his mug down on the kitchen island and fiddled with his engagement ring. “And I thought that tonight was going to be about our announcement,” he said quietly.

“You’re right, love. Tonight is about celebrating our family. And eating latkes. And watching Pansy clean out everyone’s pockets at dreidel again.” Harry took Draco in his arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. “I still can’t believe you’re going to be my husband.”

Draco smiled into Harry’s neck and bent his head down to press a kiss to his stubbly jaw. “You need a shave, oh fiancé mine.” 

The floo chimed and Hermione’s voice rang out from the living room fireplace. “Morning! Are you up? I’ve got the dough ready to be fried for the donuts!” 

Harry and Draco hurried over to help her bring what felt like ten tonnes of dough through. 

“Is there anything else you need right now? I’ve got about half an hour before I need to drop the kids at The Borough.” Hermione’s hair was currently under a plastic bonnet, and she was wearing the niffler slippers Harry had given for Christmas about ten years earlier. 

“Cheers, Hermione! You’re a lifesaver. We just didn’t have the room to store everything here, and it’s Saturday so we can’t depend on the deli to have any free space.” Harry placed a stasis spell over the dough.

“Harry! Don’t use magic in here! You know it makes the coffee maker wonky,” Draco admonished, going to check the status of his beloved machine. 

“It’s no problem, you know that. And Ron told me to remind you that he’s bringing the apple sauce so not to bother with that store bought stuff. He’s made at least four variations this year, so make sure to compliment all of them - he didn’t come to bed until two this morning because he kept tinkering with the cinnamon ratios.” Hermione leaned a hip against the island. “I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee, actually, boys. I know I’m supposed to be off caffeine but I just need a quick fix.” 

“You fiend.” Draco grabbed a clean mug and filled it, adding just a splash of milk. He handed it over with a wink. 

Hermione reached for her drink and gasped. “Draco. Lucius. Black. Malfoy.” She enunciated each syllable of his name with narrowed eyes. “I better not be seeing what I think I see on your hand. Because that would mean that you, one of my closest and dearest friends, was engaged to the other of my closest and dearest friends, who had not deigned to tell me, the godmother of two of their children, that they’re getting married. Because that would be outrageous and would cause me great angst.” 

Harry and Draco looked at each other and then back at Hermione, guilt written across their faces. 

“It’s just that we wanted a few days to get used to the idea before we told anyone!” Cried Harry at the same that Draco burst out with, “we’re not engaged!” 

Hermione sipped her coffee calmly. “Get your stories straight, you two, or I swear I’ll floo Narcissa straight away and tell her you eloped.”

“You wouldn’t!” Gasped Draco. 

“Try me, Malfoy!” 

“Ok, ok. We’re engaged!” Draco replied, holding his hands up in surrender. “We had a bit of a domestic on Tuesday and then we had a long talk where Potter reiterated his undying love and affection for me and just went on and on about how I make his life better, and I felt bad for the man so I accepted his bumbling proposal.”

“Hey! You twat! That’s not what happened!” Harry said laughing despite himself. “It’s true that we had a small row but we cleared it up and I realised that I couldn’t bear him thinking that I would some day up and leave. So I proposed. And he called me insane but he accepted.” 

Draco and Harry smiled dopily at each other. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, Hermione,” Draco explained, “but we didn’t even tell the kids until last night. We just needed a few days to let it all settle.” 

Hermione stood stiffly with her arms crossed over her chest, regarding the two men in front of her. “I suppose that I forgive you. But only if I’m allowed to give a speech at your wedding.” 

“Well, we were thinking that it would be really informal and -“ Harry cut off abruptly when Draco elbowed him and hissed at him to acquiesce. “I mean of course! Hermione, come on, anything for you.” Harry amended. 

Quick as a flash, Hermione’s entire demeanor changed. She launched herself at Harry and Draco, drawing them both into a tight hug. “Oh this just makes me so happy! I can’t believe it. I mean, I can believe it, of course, you two have been dancing around this since we were sixteen.” 

“You are sworn to absolute secrecy, Granger. I’m serious.” Draco pointed a long finger at her. “I know you were the one who told Scorpius about the chocolate stash in the lab, and you told Harry about the those red knickers you found in my coat last year, thus ruining his Valentine’s Day surprise.”

“Oh please, everyone knows where your chocolate stash is,” Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry, who confirmed this with a nod, “and not only have I apologised for the knickers mix up, but you know I was only concerned that you were stepping out on Harry and I panicked!” 

Harry blushed and Draco rolled his eyes. “You have to promise to keep this a secret until tonight. I want you to swear an Unbreakable Vow, right now,” Draco declared.

“Oh come on, love,” Harry stepped in, “you don’t need her to swear an Unbreakable vow.”

“You are such a bloody drama queen.” Hermione raised her hand, palm up. “I solemnly swear that I will not tell a soul that you two are engaged.”

“You’re ENGAGED?!” The floo roared to life and Pansy stepped out, wiping ash from her black pencil skirt and levitating a case of wine in front of her.

“It’s barely half eight on a Saturday and you’re already in Gucci?” Draco called. 

“I sleep in only Chanel no. 5 and a strand of pearls, so I had to slip into something to avoid scandalising Potter.”

“It’s moments like these that I really regret opening up our floo” Harry sighed, patting Draco on the bum and reaching to fetch another mug from the cabinet. 

“Fuck right off, Potter. You know you love me.” Pansy stalked over to the kitchen island, not a strand of hair out of place. “Are we pretending that I didn’t just hear that you two are fucking engaged?” 

“Hello to you too, Pansy,” Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Always a pleasure.” 

“Oh, hello Granger. I didn’t see you there.” She gave Hermione a quick once over. “I love your slippers, by the way. They exude that ‘devil may care’ disheveled look that’s Potter’s forte.” Pansy reached over to accept the cup of coffee Harry offered her. 

“It’s wonderful that Satan’s given you the day off to help us celebrate Hannukah,” Hermione replied. 

Pansy examined her blood red nails and retorted “oh he’s wild about the festival of lights. Who do you think I got my dreidel skills from?” 

“Ladies,” interrupted Draco, “not that I don’t enjoy the entertainment, but it sets a bad example for the children.” 

James had entered the fray taking place in the kitchen, yawning and shuffling over to get his favorite cereal. “Morning Aunt Hermione, morning Pan - err, Aunt Pansy.” 

“Good morning James,” the two women said in unison. 

“If someone doesn’t tell me what the fu… what you meant by ‘you’re engaged’ I will start hexing at will!” 

“Oh, are we telling people now?” Asked James. 

“I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU TOLD GRANGER BEFORE YOU TOLD ME, DRACO LUCIUS BLACK MALFOY! AFTER ALL WE’VE BEEN THROUGH, AFTER MAKING ME SUFFER THROUGH HEARING ABOUT ‘POTTER THIS’ AND ‘POTTER THAT’ SINCE WE WERE ELEVEN BLOODY YEARS OLD!”

Harry winced, Draco took shelter behind him, and Hermione cackled. 

______________________

Harry thought it would be a miracle - not a ‘miracle’ like the oil lasting for eight nights - but whatever category came before a God-induced miracle, if a single person showed up to the party who didn’t already know that they were engaged. 

Throughout the day people had popped in and out of their house to drop off this or that, and inevitably heard the news. Dudley arrived to a loud argument between Hermione and Pansy regarding colour schemes for the wedding; Molly and Arthur - with Hugo and Rose in tow - floo’d in just in time to see Dudley sobbing uncontrollably at the news and were worried that someone had died; Ginny had come running in clutching a letter, demanding to know why Albus had asked her if marriage meant that his two dads would be keeping their jobs or if they would instead be having sex full-time; and Narcissa arrived in silence, cooly requesting that Draco explain why Pansy Parkinson had owled her earlier in the day to inquire about the Black family’s ancestral china pattern. 

Given the amount of people who had gained the knowledge first hand, Harry had little doubt that the news had spread to the rest of their family and friends. It was all for the best, he thought, that he wouldn’t have to see the look of horror on Ron’s face when he first heard that he’d be in-laws with the Malfoys. 

“Draco, love of my life, fire of my loins, if you don’t get out of the bathroom in the next ten seconds I will blast open this door!” Harry was waiting for his turn in the shower, standing starkers in their chilly bedroom save for a towel wrapped around his waist. It was useless to try and shower if Draco was in the bathroom and they actually had something they needed to get to, as their being naked in front of each other was a recipe for being late. 

“Untwist, Harry! For the love of Merlin.” Draco emerged from the bathroom in a puff of steam, the late afternoon sunlight that shone through the bay windows causing the combination of heat and dust motes in the air to create an ethereal, other worldly setting. 

Draco had his own towel wrapped loosely around his hips; his pale skin was flushed and his hair was finger combed but still wet and hanging in loose strands around his head. He managed to look both untouchable and incredibly alluring. Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the man standing in front of him. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Draco asked, looking slightly alarmed at the expression on Harry’s face.

“Fucking hell, Draco,” Harry said quietly. “You are so beautiful.” 

Draco blushed and he let a small, shy smile play at his lips. Harry walked forward and touched his fingertip to a drop of water that was clinging to a strand of Draco’s hair. 

“I just… I forget, sometimes. I get so caught up in our every day that I somehow manage to forget how stunning you are. And then I’m hit over the head by you. I’m so lucky.” Harry pressed a chaste kiss to Draco’s still flushed cheek. “I’m so lucky,” he repeated. 

“Harry,” Draco barely enunciated the word, letting it fall from his lips in an exhalation. Draco took Harry’s glasses off of him and tossed them onto an ottoman. “I need you to touch me, right now.” 

Harry nodded and tilted his head to kiss Draco, clutching at his shoulders and pulling him closer. Draco responded by opening his mouth and licking into Harry’s, wrapping his arms around his arse and pressing their groins flush against each other. 

Harry groaned and unwound their towels, letting them drop to the floor, so that they were both standing naked and half hard in the middle of their bedroom. Draco broke the kiss to cast a quick locking charm to the door and a muffliato before returning to Harry’s lips.

This time Harry pulled back. “Get on the bed, Draco. All fours. Arse in the air for me. Now.” Draco shivered. He couldn’t get enough of Harry taking control like this. He complied and looked over his shoulder, waiting to see what would come next. In the past three or so years, Harry had become completely attuned to what Draco wanted and needed in bed. Gone were the days of Harry waiting for Draco to ask to be spanked or bent over the nearest flat surface and fucked. 

Harry was stood staring at all of Draco’s exposed skin and stroking himself slowly, head tilted as if considering his options. Draco wiggled his arse and tried to school his expression into what he hoped was an alluring invitation to ravish him. 

Harry must have liked what he saw, because he suddenly walked forward and onto the bed, settling himself behind Draco and grabbing one fleshy arse cheek in each hand. Harry spread Draco open and bent his head to lick at his furled pink hole. Draco moaned and bucked backwards, shoving his arse further onto Harry’s face. 

Harry chuckled and pinched one cheek before diving back in, lapping at Draco and reaching forward to cup his balls. 

Draco’s head was buried in his arms and he tried to present his arse more fully for Harry’s ministrations. Sweet Merlin but he loved it when Harry did this; when he opened him up with his tongue and his spit and made him feel cherished and a bit dirty all at the same time. 

“Fuck me, Harry. Please. I’m ready. I don’t want any more prep. I want to feel your big cock splitting me open.” 

Harry’s tongue suddenly stopped and Draco looked behind him. Harry had his eyes squeezed shut and he was holding the base of his dick tightly, breathing heavily. “Good God Draco I almost came. The mouth on you.”

Draco winked and sat up, grabbing the lube from his bedside table. He opened the cap and spread some onto his fingers, rising up onto his knees so that he could reach back for his hole before squeezing a bit more out and looking at Harry expectantly. “You ready?”

Harry nodded and allowed Draco to slick up his cock. “Face the other way,” Harry said, positioning Draco so that they were looking out towards the fireplace. He sat up behind him and waved his hand, opening the door to their armoire and revealing a large mirror. 

Draco smiled at their reflections: he was on all fours, waiting for Harry to push into him. He bit his lip and watched as Harry took himself in hand and positioned his cock before entering him slowly. 

Draco dropped his head back and Harry groaned loudly, letting the hot, wet heat swallow him. He usually gave Draco a few moments to adjust, but Draco pushed all the way back immediately and began fucking himself on Harry’s dick. 

Harry grabbed Draco’s hips and tried to still him - or at least slow him down - but Draco just grinned at him in the mirror and kept his pace.

“Come on Harry, fuck me. Fuck my tight little hole. I want you to make me come all over myself because I’m such a little slut for you.” 

Harry had a fleeting thought that he might die like this, buried inside Draco and overcome with pleasure and love. “Although,” he reasoned in his head, “this is a much better way to go than last time.”

To stave off his impending organsm, he concentrated on watching the expressions that crossed Draco’s face, wanting to catalogue every groan and brow furrow. Harry pulled Draco up and into his lap so that they were both sitting straight up, Draco’s legs wrapped around the outsides of Harry’s thighs. 

Draco cupped his balls and pulled them up as he bounced so he could watch Harry’s cock slide in and out of him. Slapping away his hand, Harry spit into his palm and wrapped it around Draco’s rigid dick and began pumping, his other hand coming up to gently caress his throat. Draco lifted his left hand to cover the one Harry held over his neck and a bit of sunlight caught the gold band on his ring finger, causing golden rays to shoot out across the room. 

“I’m going to come,” Draco breathed, spellbound by the sight of them fucking that was reflected in the mirror. 

“Do it. Come for me,” Harry breathed into his ear, flexing his thighs and clenching his arse to thrust more deeply into Draco.

All at once Draco’s mouth opened in a silent scream and he clenched around Harry’s cock, shooting semen onto his stomach and Harry’s hand. 

When the last wave of his orgasm had rolled over him, Draco sighed and went slightly limp. Harry hefted him onto his back and he straddled him, furiously pulling himself off. 

“Fuck, yes, Harry. I want your cum all over my face.”

Harry moaned and felt his own orgasm build in him until it hit him full force, causing him to fall forward onto his left hand and watch as his spunk striped over Draco’s chin, lips, and cheeks. 

Harry fell onto his back and they both lay boneless and trying to catch their breath.

“I’m covered in cum,” Draco said, running his fingers through his mess on his face and not looking a bit put out at the situation.

Harry leaned over and licked up a bit that was resting on Draco’s lip. 

“Pervert” Draco admonished, smiling.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “but I’m your pervert.”

____________________

_Dreidel dreidel dreidel, I made you out of clay  
And when you’re dry and ready, oh dreidel I shall play!_

Hugo and Lily scream-sang the song as they sat in a circle on the sitting room floor, midway into a game with Dudley, Pansy, Saul, and James. 

“Ugh, _shin_ again! This is rigged!” Shouted Dudley, tossing a chocolate coin into the pot in the middle. 

“I promise you, it’s not,” Pansy said, eyes flashing as she prepared to spin. “Some of us are just naturally talented.”

“It’s purely a game of chance, Pans,” Blaise said from his perch on the couch. “There’s no way to be ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at something that requires no skill.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, darling,” Pansy responded, cackling and clapping her hands when the dreidel fell on _hay_. 

“My cousin Shlomo never lost a game of dreidel!” Saul claimed. “I’d never seen anything like it until you, Ms Parkinson. You’ve a gift for the game.”

“See?” Pansy said, preening. “I’ve a gift Blaise. And you’ll be reaping the benefits, I’m sure. Last year I found tiny pieces of gold foil from the gelt around the house until at least March.”

“Lies! Lies and hearsay!” Shouted Blaise, laughing. 

On the other side of the room, Ron sat at the table with a plate laden high with latkes.

“I think my favorite is number 3,” he said, mouth full. “But number 7 is also good. Four is rubbish. Too much cinnamon, not enough brown sugar.” Ron judged his own apple sauces and Draco grimaced, trying to avoid being sprayed with half-masticated potato. 

“Mmm,” Draco said noncommittally and glancing around the room for Harry. Somehow, in a house teeming with people, Draco had found himself alone with Ron. He clicked his engagement ring on the stem of his wine glass absently, hoping he would be saved by someone else joining the table. 

Ron swallowed. “Listen, mate,” he began, a serious expression on his face. “I know we’ve had our troubles in the past. I never liked you, and I’ve always been jealous of your easy friendship with Hermione. You two operate on a different field than the rest of us mere mortals.” Draco raised his eyebrows, taken aback at the honesty Ron was doling out. 

“But, it seems like you make Harry happy,” he continued. “I mean, I know you make Harry happy. I haven’t ever seen him like this… he just seems so light and free with you. Merlin knows why, but there it is. And so, yeah, I’m glad for you two. You both deserve happiness. Congratulations, I suppose.” Ron picked up another latke and shrugged, apparently finished with his little speech. 

“Thank you, Ron - “ Draco began, ready to accept the kind words but he was cut off.

“If you hurt him, though, you know I’ll fucking kill you. I’ve done things for that bloke that most people wouldn’t dream of. And I have a whole arsenal of others ready to hide your ferrety body if you step out of line.” Ron smiled. “So. Yeah. Don’t fuck this up.” 

Draco rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. “As if I’d be the one to hurt him. He’s too good for me, and I’ll hold on as tightly as I can to that delightful arse of his for as long as he’ll have me.” 

“Love, do you still think I’m going to chuck you out someday? Just up and say, ‘oh well, thanks for the delightful shags and I appreciate the help parenting those kids but, ciao!’?” Harry had apparently heard Draco’s last words and he sat down at the table, taking Draco’s hands in his own. 

“No, Harry, I don’t think you’d ever say ‘ciao’ to anyone.” Draco answered. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake! This is ridiculous,” Harry said, huffing. He stood up from the table and dragged Draco with him, walking to the center of the room. 

“Hello! Everyone! Can I please have your attention?” Harry yelled, waving his hands around to get the scattered members of his friends and family to focus on him. 

“I want to say a few words. And then I’ll let Saul have the floor to light the menorah. But first,” Harry pulled Draco to his side and wrapped his arm possessively around his hips. “Despite the fact that we wanted to make a grand announcement, I know you’re all aware that Draco and I are getting married.”

A few catcalls and cheers rang out around the room, while a lone voice yelled “bloody hell! You’re getting married?! Fucking cheers, boys!” 

“Oi, Seamus! I told you that before we came over!” Dean yelled at his husband.

“Did you?” Seamus replied, looking perplexed. “When?”  
“Nevermind, love. Nevermind,” Dean shook his head, exasperated but smiling. “Carry on, you two! Ignore the Irishman.” 

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Harry continued, chuckling. “Draco and I are getting married. And I wanted to tell him, and tell all of you, how incredible I think he is and how insanely lucky I am to have him. Draco,” Harry faced his fiance, taking his hands in his own. “I remember the first time I saw you, when we were eleven years old. We were in Madame Malkin’s and I had just been told I was a wizard. I was still in shock, I think, and there you were, confident as can be, nattering on about Hogwarts houses and Slytherin and how you’d off yourself if you were sorted Hufflepuff.” 

Draco blushed. “Can we skip ahead about ten years?” He asked.

Harry smiled and shook his head. “I was jealous of you, then. You were so comfortable in the knowledge that you were a wizard, and that you were headed off to a boarding school that you’d been preparing for your whole life. And I just stood there, hoping you wouldn’t notice that I had no idea what was going on and that every time I saw someone perform magic I think I actually jumped a bit. And then we got to school, and you were a giant prat.” Everyone laughed. Draco blushed an even deeper shade of pink.

“And yes, you could say that we didn’t get on very well for the first, oh seven odd years of knowing each other?” More laughter, and a few comments rang out across the room. “Ok fine, yes, we absolutely hated each other. But I think deep down I was still that eleven year old - even when we were hexing the living daylights out of each other - jealous of the confident wizard with the pointy chin.” Harry looked down at the floor, trying to gather his thoughts. He shook his head as if to clear it, and looked up to meet Draco’s grey eyes. “When you wrote me that letter a few years after the war, I knew you had grown up. And I had, as well. You told me all about your community service, and learning about Muggles, and apologised for everything that happened during the war in that roundabout way of yours. I didn’t respond to the letter, because I wasn’t sure what to say. I was tempted to write you back, of course, to tell you all about my own experiences, but I was afraid. And it was easier for me to just put things in drawers and not think about them, back then.

“But of course you didn’t stay gone. You and Hermione started faffing about, solving ages-old problems and making huge strides in potions and healing. You opened yourself up to learning all about Muggle science and I was blown away. Not to mention the way that Hermione would chatter on about you, particularly after Gin and I split, extolling your analytical mind and never forgetting to share just how witty and hilarious you are. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that she was on to my obsession with you a bit before I was aware of it.” 

“Mate, you literally stalked him for our entire sixth year. Everyone with eyes was on to your obsession!” Ron called out.

Several people clapped and it was Harry’s turn to blush.

“Ok, ok! Anyway! I didn’t allow myself to consider the possibility of you - of us - in reality, until that day you walked into the deli. I had made peace with the fact that I would probably always admire you from afar. But then there you were, looking incredible in that black wool coat and those tailored trousers that should be illegal and speaking French. I was enamored of you immediately. And even though it took us learning how to communicate - Hermione, shut it! - we eventually got there. 

And I have spent every day of the past two and a half years thanking the universe for shoving us back together. Because you are my piece, Draco. You are that little bit of me that wasn’t complete and I was always looking for you, for my b’shert. And I’ve got you. And I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives being thankful for your presence. For putting up with my temper and my hair and my impulsive method of decision making. For packing the kids’ lunches and making sure I don’t burn down the house when I try to use the toaster. For loving this crazy family and agreeing to become part of it. I’ll never let you go, Draco.” Harry leaned in and kissed him then, sighing into the familiar feel of Draco’s soft lips. 

Draco pulled back, his eyes shining. “Bloody hell, Harry. How am I supposed to follow that? I’m the dramatic one in this relationship.” He took a deep breath and looked out at his friends and family. “Thank you, everyone” he began, “for giving me a chance. For allowing the past to be the past. I love Harry with all my heart, and it seems that he’s pretty fond of me, too. I’ll save the real heart-wrenching lines for the wedding. You’ve all been warned, so bring your tissues.” 

“Mazel tov to Harry and Draco!” Saul called out, raising his wine glass in the air. 

“Mazel tov!” Everyone cheered. 

Draco grabbed Harry and pulled him into another kiss. “How do you feel about being a June bride?” he asked between kisses. 

“The sooner I’m legally bound to you, the better,” Harry said, his smile wide and warm. “I’m yours, Draco. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome. xx


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